I'd die for you
by tk-fan-4ever
Summary: A short quick story involving Bobby after Cracker Jacks death. '  R&R thanx enjoy


He feels like a helpless little boy again, pounding on the walls in his head trying to keep the feelings from overtaking him.

He's running from the inevitable. Holding the fluffy white pillow over his face he screams, screams for the young life that was taken, screams for the loneliness he's forced to feel.

Tears hot and wet pour down his cheeks. Wipe them away only to be replaced by more. Choking on desperate sobs.

Staggers around the silent house in the dark his brothers are out. And one is just plain gone. Jack, his Jack. He can still see the brilliant blue of his eyes fading away to be replaced by the dead stare that haunts his dreams.

Revenge has been taken he can find nothing to keep his mind off of that morning. Pulling the door open he steps slowly into the room that harbors all his fears. The room that holds the roots of his grief. Jacks cloths lay haphazardly thrown around not even unpacked all the way smelling of cigarettes and the unique smell that was all Jack.

Smothering the urge to fall onto the cold bed and cry until he can't see, Bobby steps into a scene from his nightmares, a room empty of Jack waiting quietly for someone to come pack away every reminder that he ever existed.

Fear is strangling him, Bobby's breathing is irraticle and he backs out the door trying desperately to hold the panic at bay.

But that little boy crying and screaming in his head has been let out and he collapses on the floor sobbing loud body racking sobs.

He's helpless, useless, everything he fought for in life is an absolute waste in the end nothing he had ever done saved his little brother.

He can feel the cold numbing his fingertips can feel the warm wetness as jacks blood seeped into his gloves.

Can feel it all like it was yesterday. Looking through a haze of tears he sees jacks guitar sitting lonely and unused on jacks bed placed in the center of his bed dominating the whole room just so, the way Jack liked it, always there for him. A guitar can never be mad at you can never leave you.

Jack needed that kind of stability. Something Bobby had never been able to give. Now he wished with his whole being that he had sat with Jack on those nights when the nightmares were so bad he couldn't sleep he wishes he had been there protecting him instead of cowering behind a wall of brick.

Jack was special something Bobby never admitted to anyone, not even to Jack himself. He felt the need to protect those delicate feelings as much as he felt the need to protect the source of those feelings.

Picking jacks jacket of the floor with trembling hands he holds it to his face and breathes in the scent that is purely Jack. The scent he will never again catch a whiff of as he sits in front if the TV watching the game.

His jacks gone and its all his fault. He can't stand living in this cold house. All the memories here are killing him.

Tugging the coat on, he staggers to his feet and stumbles down the hall. Pulls the tote of guns that's hid beneath the couch out. He can't stand the pain that tears into his soul. The pain that causes him to wish for death.

'Don't worry I'm coming Jackie.' His whisper is met with silence but he ignores it and sets about finding the perfect gun.

Sets aside the shotgun, the 9 mm, the glock finally comes to the decision that he's going to do this the old fashioned way.

Takes the shotgun for good measure. Almost forgets that Jack isn't with him to hold the lighter and smoke well he threatens. A useless tears slides down his cheeks he wipes it away quickly and grabs a pack of matches from the cupboard above the stove.

The bastard that hurt the Jack the cause for all his sleepless nights the tears wept alone in the dark he's going to make him pay for what he did, with the most precious thing the man has, his life.

Finding the gas can is easy moving quickly now that he has a purpose he opens the door welcomes the cold that encases him.

Getting in his car still scarred from the wild night ride that was the beginning of the end, he hits the gas and away he goes an avenging angel.

Even if his Jack can't be hurt by this man anymore he still doesn't deserve to live not when a life worth so much more than his was taken.

He's there before he even realized that's where he was going, the shabby apartment buildings on 5th.

Up the stairs smelling of unwashed bodies, sex and smoke. He pushes past drugged out sloppy creatures that have no right to be called human.

Moving past floor after floor with no real destination in mind he comes to a door that reeks of evil he pushes into the poorly lit 'office'.

The man sitting there so comfortably with a girl on his lap makes Bobby see red and then he's on the man pummeling him into nonexistence.

Ties him to a chair waits till he wakes and watches the fear that blossoms in the man's eyes as he upends the gas can over him.

'For all the pain you caused him.' His voice is so deadly if he thought about he'd probably be impressed but at this moment in time all he wants is to watch this waste of life this piece of scum burn and were he's going is so much worse than this, the thought makes him smile with the grin of death.

Light him up watch the flames grow listen to the screams that are music in his ears. So enchanted with the sight he never sees death falling from above.

And without uttering a sound he's gone. Lost in the flames that paint the night sky.


End file.
